Some like it hot, as in the throat-burning Kaoliang; some like it mild, as in the yellow rice wines; and some like it sweet and syrupy, as in the various fruit liqueurs.
Produced in Taiwan are 28 kinds of wines, liquors, and liqueurs—not as many as were found on the mainland, but a wide enough variety to suit the differing tastes of the populace.
In the old days, wine lists apparently were impressively extensive. A tattered piece of paper found at an archeological site turned out to be the wine list of a general of a former era. It listed more than 100 varieties of wine with which he was provisioned when on campaigns away from home.
Kaoliang, called liquid fire by unsuspecting first-time imbibers, is the favorite drink of northerners—perhaps because it is so helpful in warding off the cold winds of North China. A colorless spirit with a slightly musty odor, Kaoliang gets its name from the sorghum from which it is made. High in alcoholic content, Kaoliang is not taken in large quantities, even by seasoned drinkers.
Ordinary Kaoliang retails throughout Taiwan at NT$44 (US$1.10) a fifth and NT$15 (US$0.38) a half pint. Kinmen Kaoliang, considered superior to that produced on Taiwan, usually is more expensive and harder to find. Connoisseurs claim the water and soil of the offshore island produce a Kaoliang which is stronger and more aromatic.
Chinese from the southern provinces prefer rice wine—Shaohsing, Special, Ordinary, Red, and Fushou are the five most common on Taiwan. Though all five look and taste much the same to the uninitiated, Shaohsing is considered the best and this is reflected in its higher price—NT$45 (US$1.13) a fifth as compared to NT$7.50 (US$0.19) for Fushou rice wine, the cheapest of the five.
Shaohsing wine takes its name from the Chekiang province town of Shaohsing, which is supposed to produce the best fermented rice wine in China. Shaohsing fathers esteem their wine so highly that they bury a few jugs on the day a daughter is born. When she is betrothed, the jugs are dug up and sent along as part of the dowry. Served warm, Shaohsing wine is mild enough to be drunk by the small cupful in the inescapable "bottom's up" toasting at formal Chinese dinners.
Homemade Brews
Taiwan's variety of sub-tropical fruits has resulted in alcoholic use of the abundance. Wines are made from grapes, longan (dragon's eye), litchi, mangoes, peaches, pineapples, bananas, oranges, plums, pears, and strawberries. The Taiwan Tobacco and wine Monopoly Bureau produces only litchi and plum wines. However, housewives often ferment their own fruit brews for home consumption. Sweet and sticky, these fruit wines are most enjoyed as after-dinner liqueurs.
Chinese imbibers have a special fondness for medicinal wines. The philosophy seems to be: why not improve your health and enjoy a drink of two at the same time.
Some make their own medicinal wine by stuffing ginseng roots into a bottle of Kaoliang and letting it sit for a year. All the curative, nutritional, and tonic properties of the ginseng are supposed seep into the wine. Others turn to the commercially produced Ny Ka Py and Tang Kuei Herb Wine.
Monopoly Bureau
Both Ny Ka Py and Tang Kuei Herb Wine are forbiddingly bitter to the taste. Little wonder they are believed to contain a myriad of health-giving properties—the prevention of stiff joints, forestalling of colds, mitigation of fatigue, and the holding back of old age. Ny Ka Py is made from plums and sells for from NT$7.50 (US$0.19) to NT$96 (US$2.40), depending on the size of the bottle or pottery crock. Tang Kuei Herb Wine sells for NT$7 (US$0.17) the liter.
Also produced in Taiwan with varying degrees of success are alcoholic beverages of foreign origin. The whisky, rum, and gin usually are considered potable only if heavily disguised with fruit juice. The local dark rum makes an acceptable though evil-looking drink if mixed with lime juice and sugar.
The white wine made from the Pinot Blanc type of grape is pleasing as a sweetish dessert wine. But the only foreign style drink produced in Taiwan with unqualified success is beer. It is ideal for those who prefer a beer less fizzy than the American variety and lighter than German brew. And the price is fair—only NT$19 (US$0.48) the large bottle and NT$10 (US$0.25) the small bottle.
The Taiwan Tobacco and Wine Monopoly Bureau is the only authorized manufacturer and distributor of alcoholic spirits on the island. The bureau started out in 1896, the first year of Japanese rule, as a monopoly with jurisdiction over tobacco, wine, salt, and many other items. Since 1945, however, its control has been limited to wine and tobacco.
For Friendship
One of the largest revenue earners in the Republic of China, the bureau has more than 10,000 employees, 11 distilleries, and a brewery.
The bureau is also the only official outlet for foreign wines and liquors. Though it offers a wide selection of imports, ranging from Remy Martin Champagne Cognac to Carlsberg beer, few Chinese know or care to know the list. Just as "Parker" is used as a synonym for pen by many Chinese, "Hennessy Three Star" and "Johnny Walker" are the brandy and the whisky. With duty included, Hennessy sells for NT$328 (US$8.20) a bottle and Johnny Walker (Red Label) for NT$298 (US$7.45).
For most Chinese, drinking is a convivial experience. It is done with noisy exuberance at parties or with quiet enjoyment among a small group of close friends. If a person drinks alone in, China, it is usually for one of three reasons—the drinker is a poet, novelist or journalist trying to court his muse; the doctor has prescribed a daily dose of medicinal wine; or the poor man just can't face life sober. That no one has ever tried to establish an Alcoholics Anonymous in China testifies to the fact that few Chinese are incorrigible topers of the third category.
Because they dislike solo drinking, Chinese shun bars. They do their drinking at meals in restaurants or at home.
Men can also do their drinking at wine restaurants where women are not welcome as customers. The food at wine restaurants is inferior and served only because law and profit require it. Men don’t go to eat, but to drink in the pleasant company of hostesses. Incidentally, Chinese women rarely drink more than a token glass, but exceptions are sometimes found in places where liquor flows so freely.
There are well over a hundred wine restaurants in Taipei, ranging from the sumptuously decorated and astronomically priced to humble establishments with wooden benches. What they all have in common is a bevy of more or less attractive young women whose duties are to ply the customers with wine and provide them with a little amatory diversion. Some of the hostesses offer some singing or dancing, but most rely on their looks, conversational talent, and all-around amiability.
Down the Hatch
Because Chinese social drinking is an expression of friendship, no cup is ever raised publicly without another's being lifted in companionship. If a person feels like taking a sip of his wine, he first must glance around the table, catch the eye of someone else, then raise his cup in an inviting gesture.
Strictest etiquette calls for the cup to be raised with both hands in a salute to the drinking companion both before and after drinking. A one-handed salute is acceptable at less formal gatherings. Even a teetotaler is expected to make the gesture of drinking, though not a drop of wine may pass his lips.
The first two Chinese words most foreigners learn are kan, meaning "dry", and pei, meaning "cup". The two together, kan pei, mean "bottoms up". No dinner is a success unless several kan pei's have been exchanged around the table.
After such a challenge has been accepted, the cup must be displayed to show that the pei is indeed kan.
After a few such rounds of kan pei's, the foreigner is quick to add a second phrase to his vocabulary—sui yi, meaning "as you wish". If a person says sui yi, he is privileged to drink as much or as little as he pleases.
Whistling Cups
A faint-hearted drinker can counter a kan pei challenge with a smile and the words sui yi uttered insistently and with determination. This also may work if the cup is set down before the challenger has had time to realize that he is being cheated out of a kan pei. A bold kan pei drinker still can force the faint-hearted drinker's hand by draining his cup and pointedly displaying the visibly dry bottom. In this case, the sui yi drinker has no choice but to prove he is a good fellow and down his cup, too.
Despite all the pleasure found in kan pei-ing, drinking in China is not a hurried affair. Chinese never down two or three shots and then stop. The preference is for sustained drinking over a long period of time. This is made possible, and early drunkenness averted, through the use of tiny wine cups, each holding scarcely a mouthful.
Chinese wine cups are made of porcelain, silver, gold, enamelware, glass, even plastic. Those used in modern China usually come in the shape of tiny, handleless teacups. The silver cups often resemble stemmed wine glasses. Most cups come in a set along with a wine pot which looks like a regular teapot with handle, spout, and lid. One type of cup has a whistle built in at one side. It gives off a cheerful piping sound to let everyone know just how deeply the drinker has quaffed.
Drunkenness is also delayed by the practice of serving food with the wine. The edibles may range from pickles, peanuts, and watermelon seeds to an elaborate series of rich, alcohol-absorbing dishes. At a dinner, drinking continues until the flow of meat and vegetables stops and rice is served. At exclusively drinking sessions, imbibing goes on until the bottles are empty or until everyone is ready to wind up with a snack of noodles or dumplings.
Flushed faces and noisy shouting at the dinner table usually mean that a drinking game is in progress. There are several varieties, but the most popular is the "finger game" or tsai chuan (literally "guess fist").
Tsai chuan is played by two persons. Each must simultaneously expose a number of fingers on his right hand, and, at the same time, call out his guess of the combined number of fingers exposed by both. The loser must kan pei.
Poetic Ennumeration
For example, Wang holds out two fingers and Lee three. As they extend their fingers, Wang shouts "five" and Lee "seven". Wang wins, so Lee drinks.
In orthodox procedure, the numbers are incorporated into short auspicious phrases when called out. "Three" emerges as "THREE stars shine on high"; "five" is "FIVE elements (metal, wood, water, fire, earth) are in harmony"; "eight" becomes "EIGHT sages cross the seas".
The guessing and drinking continue until the heavy loser begs out after too many kan pei’s. Another challenger may then enter the game, or the two may retire to leave the field to new competitors. Of course, several games may be in progress at once around the round table of Chinese dining. In such cases din, confusion, and fun are compounded.
Another popular game, more sedate, involves two persons and five small objects, usually coins. Four of the objects must be of one color and the fifth of a different hue, such as four copper pennies and a silver dime.
The two players flip and the winner hides the coins in his fist in any combination of colors and numbers he chooses. Because the game is played in three stages, three cups of wine are lined up in readiness for the loser.
'Missing Seven'
First Stage: The guesser must say whether the number of hidden coins is odd or even. Wrong? Down goes the first cup of wine.
Second Stage: The guesser must tell how many coins are held. The fate of the second cup of wine is thus decided.
Third Stage: The color of the coins must be guessed. Are they all copper, or is the silver dime hidden, too? The last cup is drained.
A third game is played by all of the 10 or 12 people who make up a table of Chinese diners. Called "The Missing Seven", the competition begins when the first person counts "one". The counting continues counter-clockwise up to "100".
Whenever a number is reached which includes the number "seven", such as "seven", "seventeen", "twenty-seven", etc., the person must tap the top of the table instead of counting out loud.
Whenever the number is divisible by "seven", the bottom of the table must be rapped.
Anyone who speaks a "seven" must down a cup of wine.
If no one flubs, the game begins all over again. Privilege of being the starter moves one place to the right.
Olden Wine Halls
Wine has been a part of Chinese culture throughout recorded history. The ancient character for "wine" is found incised on oracle bones of the Shang dynasty (1766-1122 B. C.). A variety of bronze wine vessels from the Shang era have been unearthed at archeological sites in northern China. It has been determined that wine was primarily used for ceremonial purposes at rituals for the deities during these early years.
By the Sung dynasty (906-1115), wine had long since left behind its ceremonial role and was established as a beverage to be imbibed for pleasure. The imperial government of the Sung period even set up wine halls for officials. Gold and silver wine utensils were used for drinking. Food was ordered from nearby restaurants. Courtesans sat in a row outside the wine hall doors, waiting to be called in to keep the men company. Courtesans in greatest demand stayed at home to be summoned by sedan chair.
Privately operated wine halls of the same era were much the same, though livelier. Wine and food were provided on the premises and, private owners not sharing the scruples of government, bevies of girls and entertainers strolled around offering their services to those willing to pay the price.
The legendary history of wine in China begins in 2197 B.C. The Emperor Yu had just founded the Hsia dynasty when a man named Yi Ti presented his new ruler with a sample of his discovery. The emperor took a sip of the wine and immediately felt light-headed. Being a wise and prudent ruler, the emperor said, "In future generations, emperors will lose their empires because of wine." Not wanting to forfeit his own empire, Yu avoided Yi Ti and his heady concoction.
China's greatest sage, Confucius (551-479 B.C.), enjoyed wine. But as a man who advocated the philosophy of moderation, Confucius drank with the guiding principle of never getting drunk.
Literary Drunkards
Not all of China's imbibers have been as prudent as Emperor Yu or Confucius. Many literary figures are as renowned for their drinking capacity as for their poetry.
Li Po, the Tang (61'8-906) poet, was drunk so often that he himself never could figure out why the emperor was indulgent enough to keep him on as court poet. Li Po drank at any time and place, and with or without company. In one of his poems he says:
"Among the flowers with a jug of wine
I pledge myself without any company ...
I raise the cup and drink to the bright moon."
Other Anecdotes
The importance of wine to this tipsy poet is reflected in these other excerpts from his works:
"Good wine is passed around.
I am tipsy, you too are light-hearted.
Expanding under the influence of wine,
All the cares of the world are forgotten."
"I would rather drink deeply and never wake sober.
Sages and saints lie dead and forgotten;
Only the names of famous drinkers are remembered. "
Li Po's sentiments were shared by another poet, Fa Chang, who was often called "The Drunken Monk".
"Wine makes you feel peaceful and contented.
If you drink wine, you would feel no need
To climb social or political ladders of success,
And you would never commit any crimes."
And there are other anecdotes about literary wine-lovers:
— Pu Li-pu vowed that his ideal was "to have about 100 liters of wine by my side, a wine cup in my left hand, and some tasty crab pinchers in my right. Floating down the river drinking and eating, I would be happy enough for all my life."
— Su Tze-mei, a scholar of the Han classics, liked to study and drink at the same time. His uncle once commented: "You have found the best appetizer for your wine-the Han classics."
— Tao Yuan-ming of the Tsin dynasty had a high-handed way of dealing with his drinking companions. He would invite a group of friends home and when he felt he had had enough to drink, he would dismiss them by saying: "You may all go now, I am drunk."
—Even bartending was respectable in the days when literature and wine were complementary. Ssu-ma Hiang-ju, a writer, eloped with a young widow. They set up a small wine shop in the country. Ssu-ma tended bar and his wife served the drinks.
On the whole, the Chinese are moderate and civilized in their drinking philosophy and customs. Confucius himself would be pleased by the aversion of the average Chinese to any degree of drunkenness in which the drinker loses control of himself.
One reason, it may be suspected, is the overwhelming Chinese interest in food and a way of eating that constitutes one of the world's great cuisines. As the French also have found, the right amount of wine gives added piquancy to the sense of taste, but too much makes the greatest dish into just another mess of porridge.
Thus the restraint of Chinese drinking revolves around the dinner table, and the wines are primarily produced for consumption with food. Whether Kaoliang or Shao-hsing, and whether taken kan pei or sui yi, Chinese beverages complement Chinese food.
Next time a Chinese dinner is served, try it with Chinese wine! It can be found on sale in Chinese food shops in most of the large cities of the world, and Chinese restaurants anywhere have at least an elementary stock.